FINNIGAN’S FORTUNE 


EPDE 


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3089 
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BY 


CHARLES TOWNSEND 


Author of “The Spy of Gettysburg,” “ Rio Grande,” “The Mountain Waif,’’ 
“ Golden Gulch,” “ A Breezy Call,” “ Border Land,” “ Broken Fetters,” 
“The Man from Maine,” “The Family Doctor,” “Deception,” 

“ Moses,” “ Early Vows,” “ The Iron Hand,” “ The Jail Bird,” 

“On Guard,” “Miss Madcap,” “Shaun Aroon,” “Tony 
the Tramp,” “Under a Cloud,” “Uncle Josh,” 

“ The Woven Web,” « Stella,” “ Vaca- 
tion,” “ Down in Dixie,” etc. 


AUTHOR’S EDITION 


THIS BOOK IS THE PROPERTY OF 


to whom the right to perform the play has been given by the author. It 


is not published, but printed as manuscript only, and all parties are hereby 
cautioned not to attempt its production on the stage without due authority 
from the author’s agents, - 



No. 23 Winter Street . . 



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Boston, Mass. 


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7T z’L'rS 

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CHARACTERS. 

LARRY FINNIGAN, easy-going, good-natured, but not averse to a “ bit av 
shindy ." 

PATRICK, /zA son; rather too fond of dress, but not a bad fellow at heart. 
RAFFERTY, his friend through thick and thin. 

DUTCH JAKE, his particular aversion. 

COUNT DE MORNEY, one of the great flok of black sheep. 

MRS. FINNIGAN, Larry's ambitious wife. 

KATY, Jake's daughter. 

LADY HANNAH LOVEJOY , an adventuress. 

Time. — The present. 

Place. — New York City. A lapse of a month between the first and second acts ; of 
a night between the second and third acts. 

T ime of playing, two hours and a quarter. 



• c 

• Copyright, 1893, by Charles Townsend. 


All Rights Reserved. 


Notice. — This play is duly protected by copyright. Notice is hereby given that the 
provisions of the copyright law will be rigidly enforced, should this play be performed 
without due authority. 


Ni 

■'Oi 



COSTUMES. 


(See, also, “ Remarks on the Play."') 


Finnigan. — Act I. First dress. Rough suit ; hat, overalls, and shoes stained with 
mortar. Second dress. A working-man’s “best” suit, somewhat old-fashioned and ill- 
fitting. Act II. First dress. Fancy trousers, slippers, smoking-jacket, fez. Second 
dress. Full evening costume. Act III. Dressing-gown, slippers ; no collar. 

Patrick. — Act I. Rather bizarre costume, hat, gloves, walking-stick. Act II. 
Evening dress. Act III. Long-skirted, light frock coat, broad-striped trousers, fancy 
vest, patent leather shoes. 

Rafferty. — Acts I. and II. Ordinary modern costume.. Act III. First dress. 
Same as before. Second dress. Police uniform. 

Jake. — Sack suit throughout. 

Count. — Act II. Evening dress. Act III. Street dress. 

Mrs. Finnigan. — Act I. Gaudy house dress. Act II. Evening dress, en train, 
decidedly outre; opera cloak, etc., for second entrance. Act III. Fashionable house 
dress. 

Katy. — Act I. Plain house dress; burnouse, or head scarf. Acts II. and III. 
Neat house dress. 

Lady Hannah. — Act II. Fashionable evening dress; opera cloak, fan, gloves. 
A ct III. Elegant house dress. 



Act I. — Novel for Mrs. Finnigan. Clay pipe, tobacco, and matches for Finnigan. 
Newspapers for Jake and Finnigan. Loaf of bread for Patrick. Telegram in enve- 
lope for Patrick. 

Act II. — Book for Mrs. Finnigan (on table). Coin and check-book for Finnigan. 
Pen and ink on table ; also large illustrated book. Box of caramels for Patrick. 
Clay pipes, tobacco, and matches for Rafferty and Finnigan. Liquor-flask for 
Rafferty. 

Act III. — Large water-pitcher for Finnigan. Package of bank-notes and dagger 
for Count. 


SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS FOR PROGRAMMES. 


Act I. — The home in “ Finnigan’s Alley,” New York City. — Mrs. Finnigan’s ambi- 
tion. — “ And me a-dyin’ to see the Italian opery. ” — An unwelcome visitor. — Rafferty’s 
news. — “Me wife’s mother’s uncle is dead.” — Finnigan arrives. — On a strike. — 
“What for, I dunno. They said strike, an’ we struck.” — Rafferty in hot water. — 
Finnigan’s song. — His opinion of dudes. — Patrick the Dainty. — “ He’ll be axin’ for pie 
next.” — Katy. — Jake and Finnigan. — War threatened. — War declared. — Pat in 
trouble. — Katy’s reason. — “ T-a-f — taf, f-i-e — fy, taffy ! ” — Katy gets mad. — “ What 
a nice, quiet time I’m having ! ” — The telegram. — Fortune smiles at last. — “ Now I will 
lick that Dutchman f ” — Tableau ! 

Act. II. — A month later. — Finnigan’s new home on Murray Hill. — Mrs. Finnigan’s 
trouble. — Her struggles with “ Frinch.” — The trip to Coney Island. — The Count and 
Lady Hannah. — A little backbiting. — Katy speaks her mind. — “ Begorry, the ould 
mon has got wan friend lift.” — High society. — Snubs all around. — Father and son. — 
The check. — • A bashful young man. — The proposal. — “ Don’t you dare kiss me.” — A 
pretty pair of swindlers. — Lady Hannah’s advice. — A dangerous game. — More snubs. 
— Finnigan’s desperation. — “ I’ll commit suicide av it costs me me life ! ” — Rafferty’s 
suggestion'. — The temptation. — “It looks like whiskey.” — Recalling old times. — 
Finnigan asserts himself. — A roaring row. 

* Act. III. — The next morning. — Mrs. Finnigan’s new trouble. — Finnigan a wreck. 
• — “ I’m a blowed-up steamboat.” — Mrs. Finnigan meets her match. — Cold comfort. — 
Jake brings startling information. — The swindlers compare notes. — The Count is 
cornered. — Jake “gets his Dutch up.” — Finnigan interferes. — “ Let the ould mon do 
the slugging ! ” — The attempted murder. — The surprise. — Policeman Rafferty. — 
Finnigan’s vow. — Finale. 


3 


STAGE SETTINGS. 
Act I. 


Sofa. 


Door. 


o 

Easy Chair. 


Interior Backing. 


| Door. 


O 

Chair. 


„ o 

Chair. 


Door. 

O Chair. 

Chair. Q | [ 

Table. 


1>oor. 


Acts II. and III. 


Interior Backing. 



o 

Fancy Table. 


co 

Tete a Tete. 


O Chair. 

| | O Chair. 


Table. 


5 S 


Door. 


SCENE PLOT. 

Act I. — Plainly furnished room in fourth grooves, with interior backing in fifth 
grooves. Carpet down. Doors c. in flat, r. u. e., l. u. e., and l. i e. Sofa up r., chairs 
up l. Easy-chair down r. Table and chairs down l. 

Acts II. and III. — Elaborately furnished room in fourth grooves, with fancy interior 
backing in fifth grooves. Doors r. c. in flat, r. u. e. and L. i e. Carpet and numerous 
rugs. Corner stand up R. Cabinet in corner L. Fancy table with books up c. Tcte-h 
tete with gorgeous pillow l. c. Table with writing material and chairs r. front. This 
scene must be in striking contrast with Act I. Make the set as elaborate as possible, as 
there is no change. Decorate the walls with numerous pictures, hung with the worst 
possible taste, and have the furniture in keeping. This bad taste is characteristic of the 
“ newly rich ” in their desire for inordinate display, and therefore in presenting this play 
Mr. Townsend always made a special feature of the stage setting. 

4 


FINNIGAN’S FORTUNE. 


ACT I. 

Scene. — A plainly furnished room in fourth grooves, with interior 

backing in fifth grooves. Carpet down. Doors c. in fiat. 

R. u. E., L. u. E., and L. I. E. Sofa up R. Chairs up L. Lasy- 

chair down r. Table and chairs l. 

( Enter Mrs. Finnigan, with book , r. u. e.) 

Mrs. F. (c.). What a perfectly deloightful “story av modern 
high society is this book ! It jist takes me breath away entoirely, so 
it does. (Sits at table.) Oh, dear! oh, dear ! Why couldn’t it 
have been me luck, now, to marry a rich mon, an’ shine among all 
the big bugs? If Mr. Finnigan only had any stoyle whativer about 
him ! But niver a taste has he got at all. He jist works in thot 
dirthy ould lime an 1 mortar all the day, an’ whin night comes he 
niver will go anywhare but Tony Pastor's The-rt-tre. An’ me 
dyin’ entoirely to see the Italian opery, in a low dress, wid a long 
train. It’s too awfully provokin’, so it is. Av it wasn’t for that 
ould Rafferty, — bad cess to him ! — I might get me husband out to 
the opery some toime. I jist despoise that Rafferty, so I do, an’ I 
wish he’d niver come here again. (Knock c. D.) Come in. 

(Enter Rafferty, c. d.) 

Raf. Good-afternoon to ye, Mrs. Finnigan. 

Mrs. F. The saints presarve ye, Mr. Rafferty. Sure, I was 
jist thinkin’ about ye, an’ hopin’ ye’d call around, so I was. 

Raf. Thank ye truly, Mrs. Finnigan. (Aside.) Ibelaveshe’s 
lyin’, ivery blissid word av it. 

Mrs. F. Take a sate, Mr. Rafferty. An 1 how is the wife an’ 
childer, I don’ know? 

Raf. (seated R.). They’re all well, thank ye, but me wife’s 
mother’s aunt’s uncle is dead. 

Mrs. F. Longlife to him ! Whin did he die? 

Raf. About a couple o’clock in the mornin’ last night. 

Mrs. F. An’ what was the pre-distressin’ cause av it? 

Raf. Now, Mrs. Finnigan, ye know I don’t understand Frinch. 

5 


8 


finnigan’s fortune. 


Fin. In politics ? An’ me a mimber av the Sons o’ Timprance 
in good standin’ ! Why, I'd lose me reputation in a day. Oh, no, 
me dear. Whin I get so low down that I have to go into politics 
for a livin’, I’ll hire mesilf out to an organ-grinder. 

Raf. That reminds me. What song was that you was singing 
as you kem in ? I’m thinkin’ I’ve heard it somewhere before. 

Fin. That? Oh, yis, it’s wan I heard at Tony Pastor’s t’other 
night. 

Raf. Let’s have it. 

Fin. Oh, dear! oh, dear! Ye want me to warble ? 

Raf. That’s it. 

Fin. Well, I don’t know. Is that little poodle pup av yours 
anywhere about ? 

Mrs. F. And why ? 

Fin. Well, I sang wan day at a picnic ; an 1 whin I got through 
the only people lift in sight was me an’ a dead dog. 

Raf. Oh, go ahead. 

Fin. Very well. But you two must be aquilly guilty by cornin’ 
in on the chorus. So here goes. (Finnigan sings.) 

Raf. Well, so long, Larry. 

Fin. Must ye go, Rafferty? 

Raf. Yis, I must be aff. Good-by, mem. ( Exit C. D.) 

(Mrs. F. nods shortly and turns away.) 

Fin. Ye don’t seem to be dead stuck on me friend Rafferty. 

Mrs. F. No, I’m not, an’ I don’t want him around here, ayther. 

Fin. What’s the matter wid Rafferty? He’s all right. 

Mrs. F. He’s not. He hasn’t any sang-froid. 

Fin. No, for he sang bass. 

Mrs F. I mane he’s not cultivated. 

Fin. Cultivated? Do ye take him for a squash ? 

Mrs. F. He’s not like our Patrick. 

Fin. (fills pipe). No, thank the lord, he’s not ! 

Mrs. F. Larry Finnigan, ye ought to be ashamed av yourself 
always blowin’ that poor by up. 

Fin. Boy? (Lights pipe.) He’s twinty-wan years old. 

Mrs. F. The idea ! He’s only eighteen. 

Fin. I’m dumb. 

Mrs. F. I guess I know. 

Fin. Ah, ha! Then I suppose I must be a spring chicken. 

Mrs. F. And he’s so delicate. 

Fin. Is that so ? Now I saw him to-day wid a cane as big as a 
telegraph pole. He had the bald end av it in his mouth, and was 
walkin’ along something like this. (Affected walk.) I felt like 
kickin’ him into the middle o’ nixt wake. 

Mrs. F. An’ that’s why the poor by don’t live at home any 
more. 

Fin. No, sor ! It’s bekase he’s ashamed av his hard-workin’ 
ould father. It s bekase he can’t endure the sight av these poor 


finnigan’s fortune. 


9 


clothes, stained wid lime an 1 mortar. It’s bekase the clasp av this 
toil-hardened hand is too rough for his delicate flesh. Don’t spake 
to me. It’s I who have the right o’ bein’ ashamed to call such a 
creature me son. {Crosses.) 

Mrs. F. {soothingly) . Now, now, Larry ! Don’t fale like 
that. Remember, Larry, he’s our only child. Don’t ye moind the 
time whin our angel Maggie was dyin’, Larry, — whin she called ye 
to her bedside, an’ ye bint down to hear her ? “Father,” she said, 
“ I’m goin’ to lave ye whin the tide goes out to-night. Promise 
me, father, that you’ll be aisy wid me brother, for he’s a good 
heart in spite av his little faults.” An’ don’t ye moind how ye gave 
the promise, Larry, which she carried wid her to the great White 
Throne above? 

Fin. {aside). Bother me eyes ! I belave I’m gettin’ the grippe. 

Mrs. F. The poor by has a good heart, indade, an’ he’ll get over 
his nonsense in time. 

Fin. Well, it’s time he did. I’ll tell ye wan thing, me dear, — 
had ye let me lick him enough whin he was a kid, I’d have knocked 
all that nonsense out av him long before this where’s me Sunday 
clothes? {Speaks last sentence without a break.) 

Mrs. F. In the bedroom, av coorse. 

Fin. All right. {Goes up r.) By the way, I hear that Dutch 
Jake has been makin’ derogatory remarks about me again. 

Mrs. F. What did he say? 

Fin. They say he called me the “ missing link.” Now, I’ll lave 
it to anybody, do I look like a sausage ? 

Mrs. F. Niver moind what he says. 

Fin. Oh, I don’t — I don’t at all. But some foine day av 
I should happen to meet him, and I had a sausage in me hand, I 
would jam it right down his throat, an’ say, “ There’s yer ‘ miss- 
ing link,’ Mr. Dutchman, an’ be hanged to ye.” An’ av he didn’t 
like it, I don’t know, but I think that somebody would git a lickin’, 
an’ his name would not be Larry Finnigan, ayther. {Exit, grandly , 
r. u. e.) 

Mrs. F. {goes up L.j. Av he jist only had a little bit more 
stoyle about him, thare’s a husband any woman might be proud av. 
{Exit, L. u. e.) 

{Enter Patrick, c. d.) 

Pat. Nobody at home? {Comes down ; sniffs .) Yas, I’ll bet 
the old gent is here, for I smell that kill-me-quick tobacco that he 
smokes. What a fumigator he’d make, if — if he’d only hire him- 
self out. I’ll bet that cholera or yellow-fever would take to the 
woods, if they once got a sniff of that pipe. {Sits.) He’s a good 
sort, too, even if he does insist on ra-raking me over, and calling 
me a dude. 

Fin. {outside). Mrs. Finnigan! 

Pat. {rises j goes l.). By Jove, he is home. 

Fin. {entering, R. u. E., in shirt-sleeves). Mrs. Finnigan, have 


10 


finnigan’s fortune. 


you been wearing me suspenders agin? ( Sees Patrick.) Hello! 
There’s me olive branch. 

Pat. How d’ do, governor ? 

Fin. Are ye spakin 1 to me, Pat ? 

Pat. Why, yas — of course. 

Fin. Then don’t ye “governor” me. The first word ye 
learned to spake was “dad.” Now, call me “dad” after this, or 
I’ll break yer face. 

Pat. Yas. All right, dad. Where’s the old lady ? 

Fin. Do ye mane yer mother? 

Pat. Why, sure ! 

Fin. Then say “ mother,” or begorry I’ll break yer back. 

Pat. Yas. (Aside.) I expect there’ll be a regular row. 

Fin. {aside). To think I could be guilty o’ havin’ a son like 
that ! {Aloud.) Say, Pat. 

Pat. Yas? 

Fin. Ye better be careful. 

Pat. Careful ? 

Fin. Thot’s what I said. Barnum’s show is in town, an’ the 
first thing ye know, ye’ll be kidnapped an’ put in a cage? 

Pat. What for? 

Fin. For the girls to throw sugar at. 

Pat. Look here, dad, — blast it all ! — I’m no dude. 

Fin. Hear that, now. 

Pat. Well, it’s true. I hesitate in my speech, but I can’t help 
it — I’m built that way; and I wear good clothes, but I pay for 
them myself. And that’s something no dude can say. 

Fin. Good enough, Pat. An’ what are y6 doin’ ? 

Pat. I’m playing at the Empire Theatre. 

Fin. Playin’, eh? I thought ye wor workin’. 

Pat. So I am. I play a cornet in the orchestra. 

Fin. I see. Then ye’ve larned to toot yer own horn. Begorry, 
Pat, ye’re way past redemption. 

{Enter Mrs. Finnigan l. u. e.) 

Mrs. F. {runs to Patrick and embraces him). Patsy ! 

Pat. Yas — be careful — don’t muss up my suit. 

Fin. {aside). I’d like to muss up his nose ! 

Mrs. F. It’s so nice to see you home again. 

Pat. Yas — I’m dreadful hungry. Is there anything in the 
house to eat ? 

Fin. There’s some real nice cold pancakes an’ potaties in the 
kitchen. (Patrick looks disgusted.) 

Mrs. F. What do you want, dear ? 

Pat. Have you any Vienna bread? 

Fin. No, we’re all out av Vienna bread. But we kin give ye 
some nightingale’s tongue or pickled eels’ feet. 

Mrs. F. I can get some Vienna bread at the bake-shop. 


FINNIGAN S FORTUNE. 


I I 


Fin. No ye can’t, ayther. He’ll be axin for pie the next thing. 

Mrs. F. But it’s only a stip. 

Fin. Then let him stip it. Here, come an’ help me on wid 
this collar. Me fingers are all thumbs. 

Pat. I’ll run down to the bakery myself. (Strolls off c. d.) 

Mrs. F. Don’t be long, Patsy. 

Fin. I wonder does he call that walk a run? Here! What 
are ye about? Ye was tryin’ to button that collar onto me ear. 

Mrs. F. (tying his necktie ). Are ye iver goin’ to give that poor 
by a show? 

Fin. He’s a whole show in himself. It’s worth twenty-five 
cents to look at him — for Solomon in all his glory cut no figure 
beside our Pat. (She draws tie sharply j he chokes .) Yah ! Do 
ye want to become a widdy afore I’m dead? 

Mrs. F. (anxiously ). O Larry, did I hurt ye? 

Fin. I guess ye did. I felt black in the face. 

Katy (outside). Mrs. Finnigan, Mrs. Finnigan ! 

Fin. Tare an’ ages ! Some one is cornin’. (Rims out r. u. e.) 

(Enter Katy, c. d.) 

Katy (breathlessly). Oh — oh, Mrs. Finnigan! I — I’m most 
scared to death,, so I am. 

Mrs. F. Why, Katy darlin’, what’s the matter? 

Katy. Well, you know I (bashfully) — I — you know I think a 
good deal of your son Pat, and — and Pat thinks a good deal of 
me, and — and we both think a good deal of each other. 

Mrs. F. I know it, bliss yer heart ! an’ I’m proud of it. 

Katy. But you know Mr. Finnigan and my father are such ene- 
rgies ; they’re always wanting to fight. 

Mrs. F. Yis — jist loike all fool men. Well, then? 

Katy. Well, a little while ago he learned that Pat is — is sweet 
on me, and then you ought to have seen him. He swelled up, and 
got red in the face, and he swore too — just awful. 

Mrs. F. The haythen ! What did he say? 

Katy (horrified tone) . Gotter — dammer — rung — in — him- 
mel! 

Mrs. F. Oh ! He ought to be locked up. 

Katy. And he’s coming here boiling mad, and vows he’ll have 
an understanding if he has to wipe out the whole Finnigan family. 

Mrs. F. Will he, though ! (Arms akimbo.) I know mim- 

ber av the Finnigan family he’ll not wipe out, aven though he is 
yer father. 

Jake (outside). Oh, I vos coomin’ ! I vos coomin’ ! 

Mrs. F. Oh, dear! We’ll all be nwdered sure! (Runs off 
L. u. E.) 

Katy. Oh, dear! (Runs off R. u. e.) 

Fin. (outside r. u. e.). Here ! Get out av me bedroom ! 

(Katy screams ; runs on r. u. e., and exits L. u. E.) j i 


12 


finnigan’s fortune. 


( Enter Finnigan, carrying coat, r. u. e.) 

Fin. I wonder will I have a chance to get into me Sunday 
clothes this week or next? 

( Enter Jake, c. d. ; stands puffing , near door.) 

Fin. I wonder what noise is that? ( Pauses and listens while 
in act of putting on coat.) I’ll bet Mrs. Finnigan’s poodle pup is 
having another fit. 

Jake. Say! 

Fin. ( looks around). No ; it’s only a beer keg. 

Jake. Say ! I vos — I vos — 

Fin. Is that so? Well, I hope it didn’t hurt much. 

Jake. I vant some satisfaction, aind it! 

Fin. Do ye, indade? Well, we haven’t a bit in the house. 

Jake. Look here. My name vos Yawcub Jacob Fritzenhousen- 
hummel ! 

Fin. I know that, an’ I’ve often pitied you. 

Jake. I don't vont some uf your pity. I vonts to know some- 
ding. 

Fin. Do you ? Well, I don’t belave ye iver will. 

Jake. Say ! Vot vos you mean by letting your- fool son make 
love to my Katy? 

Fin. (aside). He calls me by a fool! Oh, if he wasn’t in me 
own house wouldn’t I smash him ! 

Jake. My Katy vos a lady, she vos, und she marries somebody 
as better as der son uf an Irish clodhopper, und don’t you forgot 
dot. 

Fin. (aside, quietly). I’m beginning to get mad now. I kin 
always tell whin I’m gettin’ mad, for I begin to smile. 

Jake. Don’t you see vot I say, ole lime und mortar? 

Fin. (aside). Lime and mortar! Oh, av he wasn't in me own 
house ! Look here ! You say me son is makin’ love to your girl? 

Jake. Yaw, py tarn ! Dot’s vot I said. 

Fin. (aside). Jist wait till I get hould o’ that by! 

Jake. You tink I lets my Katy marry into your family? I don’t 
guess so. You does notting but daub mortar all day, but I keeps 
a high-toned saloon. 

Fin. (hotly). Tare an’ ages ! An’ do you think I would have 
the blood o’ the Finnigans contaminated wid that av an ould Dutch 
beer-boozer? I’d drive me son into the ground wid a club first. 

Jake. You couldn’t do dot. He vos too soft. 

Fin. You’re a liar! (Aside.) Oh, av he wasn't in me own 
house ! 

Jake. Dot’s all right. Vere is dot boy? 

Fin. He’s gan after some Vienna bread. 

Jake. All right. (Sits; takes paper from pocket and reads .) 
I vaits till he cooms back. 


finnigan’s fortune. 13 

Fin. {aside). I wonder had I better throw him out now? Say, 
Dutch, what paper are ye readin’? 

Jake. Der Staats Zeitung, Irish. 

Fin . Anythinginit? {Sits , and takes paper from pocket . ) 

Jake. Yaw. Here vos some accounts uf fights between Ger- 
mans und Irish. 

Fin. Who licked? ( The men are sitting with backs toward 
each other.) 

Jake. Der Germans, uf course. 

(Finnigan drops paper, turns and Icoks , then turns back.) 

Jake. Von German can shust do up a couple uf Irish any day, 
yaw. 

(Finnigan, sa7?ie business ; half rises, then sits again.) 

Jake {looks around). Vot paper vos you got? 

Fin. The Irish World. 

Jake. Anyting in dot? 

Fin. I should extensively remark that there is. How does this 
strike ye? {Reads.) “ Mickey Drogan, the bantam weight, stepped 
into Dutch Daly’s dive the other night. There was the usual 
crowd of German bums hanging around, and when Mickey refused 
to set up the beer for the gang, they all jumped on him. It was a 
bad jump, for in less than two minutes he had the whole seventeen 
of them piled up in one corner.” 

Jake {springing up). Say ! Dot paper lies ! 

Fin. {quietly). Now I will lick him. I wouldn’t mind an insult 
on me own account {rises), but whin any man dares insult the Irish 
World — {Angrily.) Get out av here; get out, you Dutch 
snoozer ! G’wan now, or I’ll punch yer head full o’ holes ! 

Jake. I fit mit der Franco-German var, you bet, und I can lick 
any Irishman dot valks. 

Fin. Can ye, though! {They rush, striking each other with 
papers.) 

{Enter Mrs. Finnigan and Katy, l. u. e.) 

Mrs. F. {grabbing Finnigan, and pulling hint back). Larry! 
Larry Finnigan! Behave yersilf! 

Katy {same to Jake). Father! Father! Stop, now ! 

Fin. {struggling). Let me get at him ! 

Jake {same business). Luff me got at him ! 

Mrs. F. Av ye both don’t stop now, I’ll go for the polace ! 
Ye’re nice, law-abidin’ citizens, ain’t ye ! Fightin’ loike a couple 
o’ school-bys. 

Fin. I wasn’t sluggin’ him on me own account. 

Mrs. F. What then ? 

Fin. Bekase he called the Irish World a liar. 


14 


finnigan’s fortune. 


(Enter Patrick, c. d., with loaf of bread under his arm.) 

Pat. Hello ! They’re at it again. 

Jake. Here! 

Fin. Come here! (Both seize and drag Patrick down c. 
The following speeches are simultaneous.) 

Fin. Is it true what thot ould keg o’ beer says, that ye have been 
makin’ love to his girl, like the dom fool ye are? — as if I would 
ever allow a Finnigan to marry into the family av an ould sauer- 
kraut like thot ! 

Jake. I vants to know, py shiminy gracious, uf you haf had 
der gall to hang around my Katy schust like you don’t know dot 
she vos a lady und I keeps a saloon, und your fader is notting but 
a mortar dauber, ain’t it? 

Fin. Will ye close up that hole in yer face so I kin talk ? 

Jake (to Patrick). Coom. Vot you have to say, eh ? 

Fin. (same). Don’t stand there like a chicken wid the pip. 
Spake up, or say something now, lively. 

Pat. Yas. What is it? 

FIN. Thot’s what I want to know. 

Jake. Did you make love to Katy? 

Pat. It’s none of your business. 

Jake. I knocks your head off. 

Fin. (interfering). I guess ye better not. If there is any 
knockin’ to be done, I’ll attend to it mesilf. 

Jake (goes up c.). All right. Schust give him fits, und I for- 
gives you. I goes mit myself along home- You come too, Katy, 
right avay off quick. (Exit, c.) 

Katy (sits) . Oh, dear! oh, dear ! (Crying.) What will become 
of us ? 

Fin. (to Patrick). There! luk at thot, now — makin’ the poor 
girl cry. I ought to lick ye for thot, if nothin’ else. (To Katy.) 
There, now, Katy, don’t cry over thot thing. He’s not worth it. 

Katy. But I — I — I think he is. 

Fin. (aside). She’s a very pretty girl. I don’t know as I blame 
Pat so much after all. 

Mrs. F. (to Patrick). Skip out an’ lave ’em alone a bit. 
(Exit, l. u. E.) 

Pat. Yas. (Exit, c. D.) 

Fin. I can’t see what you see in that by. 

Katy. He’s good-natured. 

Fin. Yis. 

Katy^ And good-hearted. 

Fin. Yis. 

Katy. And — and he plays the cornet like an angel. 

Fin. Yis. Then I ought to have named him Gabriel. 

Katy. And he’s good-looking, too, — like his father. 

Fin. Urn! well, now, thot’s a matter av opinion. (Aside.) 
She’s a very nice girl. 


finnigan’s fortune. 


15 


Katy. He can fight, too. 

Fin. Fight ? Now, Katy, don’t tell me any fairy stories. 

Katy. Well, he can. He whipped a loafer one night who 
insulted me. 

Fin. To think o’ thot, now ! Begorry, he’s a true Finnigan 
after all ! Katy, you’re a darlin’. {Kisses her.) Um ! I don’t 
blame the by at all. 

Katy. Of course he isn’t so nice as his father, but then — 

F in. Now hould on, Katy, hould on, or I’ll want to elope wid 
ye mesilf. 

Katy. Then you don’t object to me ? 

Fin. Not at all. I’m entirely willin’ me son should marry 
you — 

Katy {eagerly). Yes? 

Fin. But I’m not at all willin’ that you should marry me son. 

Katy. And why not ? 

Fin. Well, av me son should marry you, he would get a very 
nice an’ swate little girl. But av you should marry me son — 

Katy. Yes ? 

Fin. You would get — 

Katy. Well ? 

Fin. {turns away). A chuckle-headed fool. 

Katy {turns away angrily). Oh ! 

Fin. So it’s no use to think about it at all, Katy. 

Katy. It isn’t, eh, you thick-headed {follows him up), snub- 
nosed, flannel-mouthed, burr-tongued old mick ! {Crosses.) I 
don’t believe he’s your son, anyhow. 

Fin. {aside). Oh, av Mrs. Finnigan heard thot, now ! 

Katy. I don’t care. It doesn’t seem possible that such an old 
brick mason as you — 

Fin. Now, av she ain’t throwin’ bricks at me head ! 

Katy. I know what we’ll do, — we’ll run away and get married, 
so there, now ! 

Fin. I suppose that settles it. Run aw r ay av ye want to, but 
I’ll give Pat a good, sound wallopin’ when ye return. 

Katy. You’re an old brute ! 

Fin. Ah, ha! {Aside.) I don’t think she’s quite so nice as I 
did. 

Katy {embracing him). O Mr. Finnigan, I’m so sorry! I 
take it all back. You’re the dearest, nicest, best man in the world ! 

F in. T-a-f — taf, f-i-e — fy, taffy ! 

Katy. But I mean it, I do. 

Fin. Now look here, Katy, — honest Injun, — do ye really want 
to marry Pat ? 

Katy {bashful business). I — I — I guess I do. 

Fin. Well, ye may — 

Katy. Oh ! {About to embrace him.) 

Fin. {stops her). Tut, tut, tut, now — hold on; there’s a con- 
dition. Ye mustn’t object to me givin’ yer father a lickin’, an’ ye 
must hammer the dude nonsense out o’ Pat. 


finnigan’s fortune. 


i 6 

Katy. It’s a bargain. 

Fin. Signed and sealed. (. Kisses her.) Um! I guess for 
safety I better put another seal on it. ( Repeats kiss.) 

{Enter Mrs. Finnigan, l. u. e.) 

Mrs. F. {loudly). Mr. Finnigan ! (Katy screams and runs out 

c. D.) 

Fin. {down r.). I’ve put me foot in it now! 

Mrs. F. Well, sor ? 

Fin. {aside). I don’t feel at all well. 

Mrs. F. I want to know what this manes. 

Fin. Well, I — I see me dear — that is we see — I mean to say 
you see — that I — I — {Aside.) Oh, divil take it ! 

Mrs. F. Yis, I certainly did see quite too much, ye ould 
villain ! {Cries.) Yer b-b-breakin’ me heart entoirely, Larry 
Finnigan ! 

Fin. What a nice, quiet time I’m havin’ av it to-day ! 

Mrs. F. I'll get a divorce, that I will. 

Fin. All right. {Hand in pocket .) How much will it cost ? 

Mrs. F. Yis, ye want to get rid o’ me, an’ go marry the Dutch 
girl. 

Fin. I can’t, bekase our Pat’s goin’ to marry her. 

Mrs. F. O Larry! {Joyfully.) An’ ye’ve given yerconsint? 

Fin. Yis, ma’am. I was doin’ that same when ye kim in. 

Mrs. F. The blissed day ! What a fool I’ve been ! I wonder 
where me by is? 

{Enter Patrick, c. d., with telegram.) 

Mrs. F. Patsy, me darlin’, yer father says ye kin marry Katy. 

Pat. Yas? Thanks awfully. 

Fin. “Thanks awfully !” That’s a nice way to talk. I hope 
she’ll bust a broomstick over yer head the first thing. 

Pat. Yas. Here’s a telegram. 

Fin. Who is it from ? 

Mrs. F. Open it quick! Oh, dear! oh, dear! I know me 
mother has sint it to tell me she’s dead. 

Fin. No such good luck as that. {Reads.) “ Form No. i. 
The Western Union Telegraph Company. This company trans- 
mits and delivers messages only on conditions limiting its liability 
which have been assented to by the sender of the following message 
errors can be guarded against only by.” — 

Mrs. F. {impatiently) . What air ye doin’? 

Fin. {looks at her). I’m readin’ a telegram. {Reads.) “Num- 
ber G-y 17. Sent by A-n ; received by A-s, 17 paid. Dated 
Bradford, Pa. To Lawrence Finnigan.” Why, it’s for me! 

Mrs. F. Goon, goon! 

Fin. (reads). “There’s oil on your land.” There! I told ye 
so. “ Will give you ” — Mrs. Finnigan, get the broom quick, an’ 
hit me on the head. 


FINNIGAN S FORTUNE. 


17 


Mrs. F. Why ? 

Fin. Bekase I must be aslape ! Listen: “Will give you five 
hundred thousand dollars cash, for a half interest ! 11 

Mrs. F. Oh, the blissed saints! We’ll move right up among 
the bi<* guns, an’ I’ll go to the Italian opery ivery day in a long- 
tailed dress, vvid diamonds as big as me fist. 

Pat. Yas, and I’ll have a lot of new neckties. 

Fin. Begorry, an’ now I will lick that Dutchman ! 

(Enter Jake, c. d.) 

Jake. Not mooch you don’t, ole mortar bed! 

Fin. Oh, watch me now! (Rolls up sleeves .) Yah ! 

Mrs. F. (pulling his coal). Stop, Larry, don’t degrade yersilf. 

Fin. Get out ! Lave me to smash him ! (Jake gels coat half 
off; Finnigan pulls it quickly over his head and pounds him.) 

Jake. Luff me loose, luff me loose ! Police, police, police ! 

QUICK CURTAIN. 


ACT II. 

Scene. — An elaborately furnished room iti fourth grooves, with 
fancy interior backing in fifth grooves. Doors r. c. in flat , 
R. u. e. and L. 1. E. Carpet and numerous rugs. A profusion 
of furniture , or?iaments, etc., as per sce)ie plot , all being in the 
worst possible taste. Discover Mrs. Finnigan, in gorgeous 
evening dress , up c., looking in hand-glass. Katy seated l. 

Mrs. F. Now, Katy, jewel, are ye sure that iverything is O. K. ? 
Katy. Oh, yes. 

Mrs. F. Quite au fait, as well as a la mode too ? 

Katy (laughing). I guess so. 

Mrs. F. And say, Katy, do ye think me Frinch is entoireiy 
come — come — come — whare the dickens is me book? (Gets 
book.) Yis — do you think me pro//£>«//ciation is entirely come 

He fat ? 

Katy. I don’t understand French. 

Mrs. F. I know that ; but suppose ye did , would ye think that 
anybody would find fault wid me accint ? 

Katy. I don’t see how they could. 

Mrs. F. Ye’re a jewel, Katy. 

Katy. How does it seem to be rich and grand, Mrs. Finnigan ? 
Mrs. F. It seems very nice, av coorse, only (groans ), oh, dear ! 
Katy. What’s the matter? 

Mrs. F. (seated, c.). These shoes are killin’ me fate, for the 
hales are way up in the middle av ’em ; and, besides, I’m buckled 
up so tight in this dress I kin hardly breathe. 


1 8 


FINNIGAN S FORTUNE. 


Katy. You’ll get used to that. 

Mrs. F. I hope I will. Anyhow, I suppose that fashionable 
women don’t breathe as much as other folks. 

Katy. How does Mr. Finnigan like the change? 

Mrs. F. That man? Don’t spake av him. He’s jist worryin’ 
the loife out o’ me entirely vvid his vulgarityisms. 

Katy. But what has he done ? 

Mrs. F. Done? What hasn’t he done? For wan thing, he’s 
grassly insooltin’ all me friends. Yisterday he axed that dear, 
swate Count ds Morney av he found the counter business paid 
better nor barberin’ ! An’ last night whin I got him to go to the 
opery he fell aslape — think o’ thot; an’ doorin’ wan o’ the most 
pian/to passages he yelled right out in his slape, an’ sez, “All down 
but nine! Set ’em up on the nixt alley!” 

Katy. You must have been dreadfully mortified. 

Mrs. F. Mortified is it? I was black in the face wid blushin’. 
I haven’t felt so bad since the day I wint to Coney Island. 

Katy. Tell me about it. 

Mrs. F. Ye niver heard about thot? Then I’ll tell ye, though 
it’s a wonder I’m alive to do it. It was about a wake ago wan 
mornin’ whin I was standin’ on the earner o’ Fourteen’ Strate an’ 
Fit’ Avenoo. Along kim Lady Hannah Lovejoy. An’ “good- 
marnin’,” sez she, an’ “ good-marnin’,” sez I. “An’ would ye 
after be likin’ to take a trip to Coney’s Island?” sez she. “We’ll 
have a good toime,” sez she. 

Katy. And did you? 

Mrs. F. Wait till I tell ye. We wint by boat, ye know, an’ at 
first it was very nice. The sunlight was dancin’, an’ so was the 
bys an’ girls ; an’ the waves was a-flowin’, an’ so was the lager 
beer. After we got into the bay the ould boat kipt tryin’ to stand 
on its held, an’ I Degan to fale very queer. 

K vty. Were you seasick ? 

Mrs. F. No, indade ! ( Indignantly .) I niver was seasick in 

all me loife. But me digestion was bad, so I thought I’d go down- 
stairs an’ lie down a bit. But the moment I started down {speaks 
rapidly ), me breakfast started up, an’ I fell agin a baldheaded man 
an’ lost me footin’, an’ away we wint kerplunkity bang to the bottom 
av the stairs. 

Katy ( laughing ). And then what? 

Mrs. F. Well, they got me on a sofy wid me a yellin’ blue 
blazes fer a doctor, bekase I thought me back was bruck. An’ 
whin he kim he looked at me tongue an’ axed me was I sick ! Was 
I sick ! An’ me almost dead! Thin he said he’d give me a sed- 
lets powder, an’ I said, “ Let’s have wan.” So he sez, “ Put wan 
in wan glass an’ wan in t'other, an’ drink ’em whin they foam.” So 
I put ’em in the glasses, but they didn’t foam at all. Thin I drank 
down wan glass, an’ it wint all right. But the minute I swullered 
the other glass {rapidly} , mother o’ Moses ! I began to froth an’ 
bile like a mad dog wid a mouth full o’ soapsuds, an’ me on the flat 
o’ me back yellin’ blue murder, “ Let me aff, I’m dyin’ !” 


FINN IG AN S FORTUNE. 


19 


Katy (laughing). How did it wind up? 

Mrs. F. Well, I ran down, that’s how. But if ever I mate that 
doctor, he’ll be practisin’ medicine on that beautiful shore. (Crosses.) 

(Enter Count and Lady Hannah, d. f.) 

Han. Good-evening. 

Mrs. F. O Lady Hannah, I’m so glad to see you. Ah, Count, 
boil soir. Take a sate. (All sit.) 

Count. Comment vous portez-vous ? 

Mrs. F. Oui. (Aside.) I wonder what he said. 

Count. And how is ze Mistare Finnigan zis evening? 

Mrs. F. He’s not up yet. 

Count. Not up vot? 

Mrs. F. He’s still abed, bad luck to him ! 

Han. Is he sick? 

Mrs. F. Somewhat, yis. Ye see, afther the opery last noight 
we wint to Delmonhzco’s for a supper, and loike a fool Mr. Finni- 
gan ate some Welsh rarebit, an’ pickled isters, an’ cowcumbers, 
sardines, an’ lobster salad. Well, ye ought to hev seen him all 
noight long, howlin’ an’ groanin’ an’ pitchin’ an’ tassin’ wid forty 
dozen noightmares all to wance, an’ him a-ridin’ the whole av ’em I 

Han. Poor Mr. Finnigan. 

Mrs. F. Excuse me, Lady Hannah. It’s O’Hannahan-Finni- 
gan, av ye plaze. I’ve put a hyp’en in me name since we became 
high-toned. 

Count. Vot a pity zat so fine a lady as you should be married 
to such a man. 

Mrs. F. (aside). Think o’ thot, now! 

Katy (to Count). You better be careful how you speak of Mr. 
Finnigan. He’s worth a hundred of you foreign jumping-jacks. 
(Goes up 

Mrs. F. Katy ! 

Katy. I mean every word of it, so there ! (Exit d. f.) 

(Enter Finnigan, r. u. e.) 

Fin. Good for ye, Katy. Begorry, the ould man has wan friend 
lift. 

Count (rises and bows). Ve are all ze great friends of M. 
Finnigan. 

Fin. Is that so? Now I thought by what Katy said as I kim 
in, that somebody was pitchin’ into me. 

Mrs. F. That was only a joke, mon cher. 

Fin. (aside). Now she’s callin’ me a monkey! 

Han. Where is Patrick this evening? 

Mrs. F. He’s engaged wid his tailor. 

Fin. Yis, an’ thot’s eleven pair o’ pants — 

Mrs. F. Ah-h-hem ! 

Fin. What’s the matter now ? 


20 


FINNIGAN S FORTUNE. 


Mrs. F. ( stage whisper). Ye ought to say “ trousers.” 

Fin. Well, I’ll not do it. Pants is pants, an’ I don’t care what 
anybody says. 

Han. Your son is a charming young man, Mr. Finnigan. 

Fin. Yis, he does wear good clothes. He’s had eleven pair o’ 
pants this month, an’ about half a bushel o’ neckties. Now, whin 
we lived down in Finnigan’s Alley — 

Mrs. F. Ah-h-hem ! 

Fin. {glances at her). As I was sayin’ — down in Finni- 
gan’s — 

Mrs. F. (as before). Ahem ! 

Fin. (looks as before). Yis, sor. Down at our old home in 
Finnigan’s — 

Mrs. F. (loudly). Oh! 

All. What is it? 

Mrs. F. (faintly). Only a — a sudden pain in me heart. 

Fin. (aside). I wonder why it is that whinever I spake o’ 
Finnigan’s Alley, me wife always has a fit? (Turns to Count.) 
Ye know, sor, we used to live down in Finnigan’s Alley, and — 

Count (to Mrs. F.). Are you going to ze reception zis 
evening? 

Mrs. F. Oh, yis, indade. 

Fin. (looks at Count). Oh ! Wouldn’t I loike wan crack at 
him ! (To Lady H.) Ye see, Lady Hannah, ourould home in — 

Han. I’ll help you get ready. Come. (Exit r. u. e.) 

Mrs. F. Oh, thank you! 

Fin. (aside). I wish she was a man ! 

Mrs. F. Count, will you excuse us for a short time ? 

Count (bowing profoundly). Wiz ze utmost great regret. 
(Takes her hand and bows her off R. u. E.) 

Fin. (watching them). I wonder is me wife smashed on thot 
thing, I dunno! Av she is, I think I’ll smash him meself. 

Count. Are you to remain at home zis evening? 

Fin. I belave that I will. Have ye any objections? 

Count. I? Oh, not in ze least. 

Fin. Thank ye. (Reads paper.) 

Count. I beg of your pardon. 

Fin. (without looking up). All roight. I forgive ye ; don’t do it 
again. 

Count (puzzled). Do it — do vot? 

Fin. Nothing. 

Count (aside). Ze parvenu / I sink zat you care ver’ little for 
ze social dissipation. 

Fin. Ye’re right. I do not. 

Count. Still, zere is much of entertainment in ze Americaine 
society of ze upper class — to me at least. 

Fin. (looks up). Is thot so? 

Count. Mais oui. I find ze members of vot you call ze Four 
Hundred ver’ amusing. 


finnigan’s fortune. 


2t 


Fin. An’ so is the baboon cage in Central Park. 

Count. I do not see ze comparison. 

Fin. Thot’s yer own fault. Any man wid half an eye kin see 
thot a dude is first cousin to an ape. 

Count {half aside). Zen a dude’s father must of been a baboon. 

Fin. {aside) . He means me. Oh, av I worn’t in me own house ! 

Count {feeling in pockets). Vot a bozzer ! I have forgotten my 
purse. Have you a hundred or so zat you could spare? 

Fin. I see. Ye want to pull me leg. 

Count. Sare ! I have not touched of your leg. 

Fin. I mane ye want to brace me. 

Count. Brace you vere ? 

Fin. Ye want to razzle-dazzle me, eh ? So ye expect to jolly me 
out av another hundred, do ye? Not this avening. The bank is 
closed. 

Count. Vot you mean ? 

Fin. {resumes paper). Oh, go chase yerself away. I’ve no 
money for ye. {Looks -up.) Is that plain enough? 

Count. Am I zen to understand zat you refuse of me zis beg- 
garly loan ? 

Fin. No, I don’t refuse. It’s simply impossible, thot’s all. 

Count {angrily). You be nossing but an ole hombug. Eef I 
but had you at home, I prick your hide wiz a rapier. 

Fin. Ye’re a dead bate. Av I had ye down in the Alley, I’d 
smash yer nose wid me fist. 

Count. Ah! {Goes up ; pauses d. f.) Benet / butor / 
{Exit D. F.) 

Fin. Been a beauty! Well, I was a purty good-lookin’ b’y, but 
I wonder how he knew it? I wonder was he guyin’ me ? {Starts 
up.) Here ! Come back here you ! 

{Enter Patrick, d. f.) 

Pat. Ah there, dad. 

Fin. How are ye, Pat? 

Pat. I’m broke, dad. 

Fin. Whereabouts? I see no sign av it. 

Pat. I mean I’m flat. 

Fin. I always thought ye were ; but I didn’t think ye’d own it. 

Pat. Can’t you tumble ? I want some dust. 

Fin. There’s plenty o’ that in the coal-bin. 

Pat. I — want — some {spells) m-o-n-e-y ; money ! 

Fin. Why, av he doesn’t know how to spell! (Patrick turns 
up stage disgusted.) There, Patsy, don’t get yer back up, as the 
bull-dog said to the pussy cat. Here’s fifty cents. Now don’t go 
an’ paint the town red, bekase if ye do an’ get jugged, I’ll not pay 
yer fine. 

Pat. Come oflf, dad. I want a hundred. 

Fin. Do ye though ! 


FINNIGAN S FORTUNE. 


$2 

Fin. It must be a very large-sized flea. Say, Pat, whin ye 
were a kid down in the Alley, you was proud as a peacock wheniver 
I’d let ye wear me Sunday-go-to-meetin’ necktie. But now, be- 
gorry, ye’ve got a bushel of ’em. 

Pat. You wouldn’t have me wear the same necktie twice, 
would you ? 

Fin. Think o’ thot now — an’ he used to run barefooted all 
summer ! 

Pat. But you wasn’t an Oil King then, you know. 

Fin. What do ye want o’ the money ? 

Pat. I owe part of it to my boxing teacher. 

Fin. So ye’re learnin’ to make boxes? Well, that’s a purty 
good business. 

Pat. ( disgusted ). No, I’m ^learning to make boxes. I’m 
learning to box. 

Fin. Oh, I see. Ye’re learnin’ to box up goods. That’s a 
purty — 

Pat. No, I’m not ! 

F IN. Ye’re not? Thin what the dickens do ye mane by yer 
boxes ? 

Pat. I mean that I’m learning to spar — to scrap — to slug — 
to fight. 

Fin. An’ ye would pay out money for thot? Why, Pat, it niver 
cost me nothin’ more nor a black eye. Now, av ye want to learn 
to fight, I’ll teach ye, free gratis fer nothin’. 

Pat. Thank you, dad, but we don’t use brickbats nor shil- 
lalehs nowadays, 

Fin. Oh, ye don’t! Thin I suppose ye stand up an’ say 
{mincingly) , “ Kape away now, kape away. I’ll strike ye wid a 
feather ! ” 

Pat. ( takes hat mid starts toward D. f.). Good-bye. 

Fin. Where ye goin’, Patsy ? 

Pat. I’m going back to work for a living. 

Fin. Tootin’ yer horn in the orchestra? 

Pat. Yes, sir. 

Fin. An’ throw yer mother into a conniption fit? Comeback, 
or I’ll wallop ye. I like yer spunk, me b’y. Here ( sits at table , 
and Jills out check), I’ll give a check. There ye are. 

Pat. Much obliged. 

Fin. Ye’re welcome. Now I must go an’ look after me valley 
de sham. {Puts check-book in -pocket.) I want a shampoo. 
{Exit R. u. E.) 

Pat. The governor’s a pretty good sort after all. If he keeps 
on — {looks at check), hello ! that’s no way to make out a check. 
He hasn’t written in the amount. Here, dad ! {Starts up r.) 

{Enter Katy, d. f.) 

Katy. Why, Pat! What’s the matter? 

Pat. {nervously). Oh, you see — I — that is to say, I — oh, 
nothing much. 


FINNIGAN S FORTUNE. 


2 


Katy. Is that all? 

Pat. {lays check on table). I — I wonder why I’m always struck 
dumb whenever I see her ? 

Katy {takes book from table up c.). Pat. 

Pat. Yas. 

Katy {brings chair c.). Come here and sit down. I want you 
to tell me all about some of these pictures. 

Pat. Yas. {Sits nervously at a distance.) What’s the book? 
Katy. “ Paradise Lost. ” You can’t see the pictures way over 
there. 

Pat. Yas. {Moves within a yard of her .) Now — now I can. 
Katy. Here’s a pretty picture. It’s the Garden of Eden. 

Pat. {looks at book). Yas. I don’t «6ee any garden. It’s all 
woods. 

Katy. There’s Adam and Eve. 

Pat. Oh ! {Turns away bashfully, bid without suggestiveness.) 
Katy. This book is awful heavy. {Nearly drops it.) 

Pat. Yas. {Catches book and moves chair closer to her.) 

Katy {leans agamst him). That’s ever so much better. 

Pat. {looks straight ahead). Y — yas. 

Katy. Here’s another picture — the Deluge. What do you 
think of it ? 

Pat. {glances at book). It — it must have been awfully damp. 
Katy {shuts book). ’Tisn’t any fun to look at pictures. 

Pat. No. {Looks straight ahead.) I’d — I’d rather look at 
you. 

Katy. Then why don’t you? 

Pat. Yas. {Turns and sees her lips close to his own ; then 
turns slowly to front , and straightens 7ip.) 

Katy. Say, Pat, do you think I would make a nice little — 

Pat. {eagerly). Oh, yas — I’m sure you would. {Pause.) And 
do you think you’d like me for a — a — 

Katy [archly). I guess I would, Pat. 

Pat. Yas. {Pause; they look at each other then turn away ; 
repeat.) 

Katy. Say, Pat ( coyly ), wouldn’t it be real nice to — 

Pat. {briskly). Yas, of course. {Pause.) Supposing I should 
ask you to — to — 

Katy {lea?is head on his shoulder). Yes? Go on, Pat — 
“to” — 

Pat. {pauses ; takes bon-bon box from pocket). Have a caramel? 
Katy {straightens up indignantly) . Is that what you meant? 
Pat. Why, I — I — {Aside.) Now I’ve made her mad. 

Katy {tartly). I wonder if you do know anything! 

Pat. Not much, I guess, except that I — I — 

Katy. Well? 

Pat. I — I — Katy — 

Katy. Yes? 

Pat. I’m going to ask you to — 


24 


finnigan’s fortune. 


Katy. All right. Go on, Pat. 

Pat. Yas. {Aside.) She ought to help a fellow out. 

Katy. Go on, Pat, go on. 

Pat. Yas. Say. Katy {loudly), let’s get married ! 

Katy {aside). "He’s said it at last. {Aloud.) Well, Pat, I — 
{Turns away.) 

Pat. Yas? {Aside.) I’ll bet she won’t have me. 

Katy. I think {hesitating), I think I better say — 

Pat. {eagerly). Yas ? 

Katy. No — 

Pat. Oh ! 

Katy. No — I mean, yes. 

Pat. {relieved). Thank you. {Aside.) ' Wonder if she’d be 
mad if I kissed her ? 

Katy. Pat ! 

Pat. Yas? 

Katy. You mustn’t dare to kiss me ! 

Pat. Well, I — I was just going to, but of course, if you object, 
I — I won’t do it. 

Katy. Oh! {Goes l., angrily.) You’re enough to try the 
patience of an angel ! {Stamps, atid exit l. i . e.) 

(Patrick looks dazed ; glances r. and l. ; straightens up and exits 
L. I. E.) 


{Enter Lady Hannah, r. u. e., and the Count, d. f.) 


Count {down c.). Veil? 

Han. {down R. c.). Well. Did you get anything from the old 
fool? 

Count. Nossing. 

Han. Why not? 

Count. I sink he — vot you say — tumble to our leetle game. 
Han. Nonsense. 

Count. Don’t be too sure. Parbleu! He be as sharp as ze 
razor knife. 

IIan. And you are as dull as a hoe. 

Count. Eh, vot? You better -keep still of your tongue, or else 


Han. Oh, what? {Laughing.) Do you think to frighten met 
Count. Soil! {Comes "to table.) Try your art. Maybe you 
be of more success. 

Han. How much have you borrowed from him so far? 

Count. A bagatelle — -perhaps a thousand dollar. 

Han. {laughing). Until you get a draft from your agent in 
Paris ! 

Count {seated). Unless ve have money soon, it be of no laugh- 
ing matter. 

Han. Yes — it is expensive to assume a rank like ours. 


finnigan’s fortune. 25 

Count. Hush ! Be you mad ? Ze vails have ears. Vat you 
propose ? 

Han. Perhaps it would be best to — 

Count ( picks up check). Ah ! 

Han. What now? 

Count. Good luck. Here be a check sign by ze ole fool. 
{Looks at it.') Payable to bearer, too. Ah, good ! I sink zis be 
of value more zan its face. 

Han. I don't see how. 

Count. Bah ! Of course not. You’re a woman. 

Han. Exactly. Therefore I’m not fool enough to attempt 
forgery. 

Count. It be no forgery. He sign ze check. See {takes peri), 
I add two ciphers to ze hundred dollar. Zen it be ten thousand 
dollar. I have skill of ze pen. I fill out ze line. So. 

Han. The bank will not pay it. 

Count. It be to bearer. Mind your own business. I look 
after zis. {Pockets check.) 

Han. And the police will look after you. 

Count. Have we not often run greater risk? You make me 
seek. 

Han. The law will make you sicker. 

Count. Veil, I takes ze chance. Hush! {They go up R.) 

{Enter Patrick, l. i. e.) 

Pat. Wonder what I did with that check? This affair has 
given me a regular case of rattles. Oh, yes ! I left it on the table. 

Han. {to Count). You see? 

Count. Hush ! 

Pat. {searching at table). Where the deuce can it be? 

Count. Beg pardon — have you lost anysing? 

Pat. Yes. Lost a check — that is, I left it on the table here. 

Count. Ah? A small paper all of a crumple? 

Pat. Yes. 

Count. I remember me. I meestook it for of no value and 
did light a cigar of it. 

Pat. What did you do with the cigar? 

Count. It be von ze ole gentleman gave me — 

Pat. And you flung it away? I don’t blame you. 

Fin. {off R. u. E.). "i’ll not have it, I say. D’ye moind that? 

Pat. Hello ! The governor’s mad about something. 

Count. Perhaps we better not see him zen. 

Pat. Yes, he’s a regular hurricane when he’s riled. {Goes l. 
with Count.) Lady Hannah, will you excuse us ? 

Han. Oh, yes. 

Pat. And — er — say nothing about the check. He might not 
like it. {Exit l. 1 e.) 

Count. Oh, we say nossing, of course, mum. {ExiPL. 1 E.) 

Han. He will get into troulDle if he uses that check. But then 


26 


FINNIGAN S FORTUNE. 


— it’s no use saying anything. These men are always so wise in 
their own conceit. Now, a woman may borrow on occasion, but 
she will not commit forgery. {Goes up l.) 

{Enter Finnigan, r. u. e.) 

Fin. {aside). Ah ha. There’s me wife’s particular friend. 
Now, I wonder what new diviltry she’s up to ! 

Han. Ah, Mr. Finnigan — 

Fin. Ah, Lady Hannah. 

Han. (sits l.). You look angry. 

Fin. I’m not angry. I’m only mad. 

Han. Indeed? I’m so sorry that anything should trouble you, 
my dear Mr. Finnigan. 

Fin. {aside). She wants to borrow some money. 

Han. Please tell me your trouble. Perhaps I can be of service ; 
and you know I would gladly do anything to aid you. 

Fin. Thank ye. (Aside.) Now, I know she wants to borrow 
some money. 

Han* Won’t you confide in me? 

Fin. Well, yes. Now, do ye think I better discharge him or 
simply throw him out o’ the windy? 

Han. Who? 

Fin. Me valley de sham. I’m always havin’ a scrimmage wid 
him. He wants to help me dress, like I was a kid, to say nothin’ 
o’ changin’ me clothes two or three toimes a day. An’ jist now he 
wanted to put ile on me hair — an’ I — an’ I was insoolted. Be- 
kase I made some money out av ile ought I to soak me head in it? 

Han. Certainly not. By the way, are you going to the recep- 
tion? 

Fin. Not this avening. It would be too chilly. They froze me 
out the last time. 

Han. But surely a man of your standing — 

Fin. Excuse me, Lady Hannah. My standing is exactly what 
it was a month ago. Bekase I tumbled into a fortune I’m no better 
nor no worser than I was thin. Now, whin some o’ yer high-toned . 
folks take off their hats an’ say, “ How are ye, Mr. Finnigan ?” it’s 
not me they’re talkin’ to — it’s me pocket-book. Do ye suppose 
they’d give the snap av a finger for me was I poor agin ? I’m sick 
av it all, an’ by the powers I wish I was back at me oulcl home in 
Finnigan’s Alley. (Crosses.) 

(Enter Mrs. Finnigan, r. u. e.) 

Mrs. F. There! He’s talkin’ about that horrible Alley agin. 
Mr. Finnigan, I’m raley surprised. 

Fin. An’ I’ll be surprised av ye ain’t down sick wid the grip 
after wearin’ such a dress. 

Mrs. F. No, indade, I’ll not. Only common people have the 
grip. Us ladies av the aristo-rr^Z-cy have the influenza. 


FINNIGAN S FORTUNE. 


27 


Fin. To think o’ that now ! 

Mrs. F. Whare’s the dear Count? 

Han. He’s with Patrick. 

Fin. {aside). Ah, ha. That b’y’s gettin’ into bad company. 

Mrs. F. It will indade be a lucky girl who catches him. 

Fin. ( aside ). I’d like to catch him in the jaw jist wance. 

Mrs. F. What’s that? 

Fin. Oh, nothin’ ; I was only thinkin’. Now, as he’s a count, 
I suppose the girl he marries will be a counter. 

Mrs. F. Mr. Finnigan ! 

Fin. I’m dumb ! 

Mrs. F. Why don’t ye say how ye like me new dress? 

Fin. Um! (Rubs chin.') Now, I dunno. But I should say av 
ye cut aff a mile or two from the skirt an’ put it around yer arms 
an’ neck ye’d be more comfortable. 

Mrs. F. Much ye know about stoyle. 

Fin. Maybe not ; but I know ye look like an ould — 

Mrs. F. Mr. Finnigan! 

Fin. I’m dumb. ( Goes up l. c., and sits , back to audience.) 

Han. Had we not better go ? It's getting quite late. 

Mrs. F. Yis, I think we had — although they say it’s a sign of 
fashionable breeding to come late, an’ so disturb everybody else. 
I say, Mr. Finnigan — whare is thot mon ? (Loudly.) Mr. 
Finnigan ! 

Fin. (looks over shoulder). Did you spake, me dear? 

Mrs. F. No — I only whispered. I want ye to ring for the 
carriage, Mr. Finnigan. (He starts , reaches D. F., and turns back 
at every “ I say.”) And I say — send a servant down to me 
modiste an’ give her fits bekase me new opery cloak ain’t arrived. 
And I say — discharge the cook. And I say — see what’s the 
matther wid the stame radiator in me drissin’ room. (Goes r. 
with Lady Hannah.) For it’s bilin hot in there. And Lsay — 
that’s all. (Ladies exeunt ft. u. E.) 

Fin. (looking after them). Is that all, I wonder ! (Calls off 
D. F.) Michael! I say — go down an’ git me a half a pound av 
Rough on Rats. (Down c.) Should this thing kape up, I’ll com- 
mit suicide av it costs me life. 

(Rafferty appears at d. f.) 

Raf. Whist, Larry! 

Fin. Hello ! Is that you, Rafferty! 

Raf. Yis. Are ye alone ? 

Fin. By good luck I am. Come in. (Rafferty comes down. 
They shake hands warmly.) It’s proud I am to see ye. How’s 
the wife an’ childer? 

Raf. They’re all well, praise the Lard, excipt the wife has the 
chills an’ faver, an’ the kids are all down wid the mumps. 

Fin. Thot’s bad. (Takes old clay pipe from pocket.) Got 
any tobaccy ? 


28 


finnigan’s fortune!. 


Raf. I have. ( Hand in pocket.) Do ye smoke here in the 

house ? 

Fin. No; I can’t smoke in the house at all unless I go out 
doors — that is when me wife’s at home. 

Raf. That’s too bad. ( Gives tobacco j both fill and light pipes l) 
How do ye manage it ? 

Fin. I — {puff) I — ( P u ff ) I climb upon the roof. 

Raf. I heard ye were gettin’ high toned. {Looks around .) 
Sure it’s a mighty foine establishmint ye have. Ah, it’s a nice 
thing to be rich. • 

Fin. I don’t agree wid ye, Raffert)\ When I lived down in 
Finnigan’s Alley I was somebody; up here I am nobody. I’m an 
outside door knob. I’m a passenger, good for nothin’ only but to 
pay the bills. I’m snubbed by everybody. I can’t smoke' when I 
want, ate what I want, nor wear what I want. I’m sot down on 
right an’ left, an’ the very people who borry money o’ me call me 
an ould fool behind me back. 

Raf. Why don’t ye slug ’em ? 

Fin. An’ make things worse y*et ? Oh, no, Rafferty, it won’t 
do. I suppose I must grin and bear it. 

Raf. Imagine a Finnigan givin’ up like thot ! 

Fin. {solemnly'). Rafferty, does yer wife throw Frinch at yer 
head? 

Raf. No — but she throws flat-irons sometimes. 

Fin. Thot’s not so bad. What are ye doin’ now, Rafferty? 

Raf. I’m an the Force, 

Fin. Polacc, eh ? 

Raf. Yis. To-day’s me day aff. 

Fin. I wish / cud have a day aff. 

Raf. What are ye goin’ to do, anyhow? 

Fin. I don’t know. Bother me money! I wish I hadn’t a 
cent. 

Raf. Oh, brace up ! Here {offers bottle ), take a sup o’ this. 

Fin. Now, Rafferty! Ye know I niver drink. 

Raf. Yis, and I’ve often pitied ye bekase av it. 

Fin. ( takes bottle). What is it? 

Raf. Taste an’ see. 

Fin. It looks like whiskey. 

Raf. Well ? 

Fin. It smells like whiskey. 

Raf. Yer nose tells the truth. 

Fin. Well, for wance then. {About to drink.) Here’s lookin' 
at ye. 

Raf. Drink hearty. 

Fin. {pausing). No, I’ll not. It would raise the divil. 

Raf. {disgusted). Larry, ye’re an ould chump! 

Fin. I belave I am. But do ye mind the time I got full at 
Casey’s ? 

Raf. Indade, I do that. 


finnigan’s fortune. 


29 

Fin. Do ye mind how I blacked Dooley’s eye, an’ brack the 
windy, an’ licked Casey, an’ kicked a dure aff the hinges ? 

Raf. An’ I give ye a clip on the hid — 

Fin. An’ I mashed yer jaw — 

Raf. An’ I blacked yer eye — 

Fin. An’ I kicked ye down stairs! 

Raf. {shakes Finnigan’s hand). Wasn’t it glorious ! 

F in. Begorry, it was thot. 

Raf. An’ thin — 

Fin. An’ thin I swore aff, an’ divil a taste have I had since. 

Raf. That was two years ago. 

Fin. Two years nine months an’ siventeen days last night. 

Raf. That’s a long time bctwane drinks. 

Fin. {to bottle). Ah, ye rascal! Don’t ye wink at me or I’ll 
ate ye up. Makin’ faces at me, are ye ! ( Shakes bottle.) I’m be- 
ginnin’ to get mad at ye now. 

Raf. Don’t let the crayture insoolt ye, Larry. 

Fin. Thot’s jist what he’s doin’. Here, bad cess to ye ! I’ll 
take yer head aff. {Drinks.) Ah — h — h ! 

Raf. {aside). Av I get him full wance, he’ll clane out the whole 
gang o’ dead beats. Don’t let up now, old mon. Have another. 

Fin. No — wan is enough. 

Raf. But the first wan will be lonesome. 

Fin. Av I take another, they’ll get to fightin’. 

Raf. Let ’em fight. 

, Mrs. F. {off d. f.). At home, is he? All right. 

Fin. Limpin’ Lucifer! It’s me wife. 

Raf. Stand yer ground. 

Fin. What! Wid only wan drink? This way. {Pushes 
Rafferty off ~ l . i e., and exit , drinking.) 

{Enter Mrs. Finnigan and Lady Hannah, d. f.) 

Han. Back at last. 

Mrs. F. Oh, dear, yes. That reception was a crusher. {Re- 
moves wrap ; pauses.) I smell tobaccy. 

Han. 1 thought something was burning. 

Mrs. F. It’s me husband, so it is. He’s been smokin’ some o’ 
that kill-enwneck tobaccy. Oh, av I git me two hands on him ! * 

Han. (r). No, no. Mrs. Finnigan, that would not be ladylike. 

Mrs. F. (r. C.). I don’t care. It’s not ladylike for him to 
smoke in me drawin’-room. 

{Enter Finnigan and Rafferty, l. i e.) 

Mrs. F. Oh, look at him ! 

Fin. {walks up c. unsteadily , then turns to Mrs. Finnigan). 
Your drawin’-room, Mrs. Finnigan? Since when, I’d like to know ! 

Mrs. F. Larry Finnigan ! 

Fin. Here. 


30 


finnigan’s fortune. 


Mrs. F. Yer a walkin’ disgrace. 

Fin. No, sor. I’m standin’ still. Back me up, Rafferty. 

Raf. All right. Go an. 

Fin. Mrs. Fin — ’ic — Mrs. Finnigan — 

Mrs. F. Well! 

Fin, I’m purty well. Back me up, Rafferty. 

Raf. I’m here. 

Fin. Mrs. Fin — ’ic — Mrs. Finnigan, I am — I am — 

Mrs. F. Yis, I see ye are, an’ I know who made ye so. Ain't 
ye ashamed to be in such company ! 

Fin. What company? I see — ye mane Lady Hannah — swate 
Lady Hannah! What’s the matter wid Hannah? She’s — ’ic — 
she’s all right. Lovely Lady Hannah ! Give us a kiss ! 

Han. ( dodges ). Mr. Finnigan ! (Finnigan stumbles into Raf- 
ferty’s arms.) 

Raf. Here, now, behave. 

Fin. ( dismally ). I want Lady Hannah. 

Raf. Ye’re goin’ too far. Behave, I say. 

Fin. Turn me loose, Rafferty. 

Raf. {holding him) . Oh, no, I won’t. 

Fin. Won’t ye, though! {Breaks away.) Where’s Lady 
Hannah ? 

Han. {behind table). Keep him away ! 

{Enter Count, d. f.) 

Count. Sacrl / Here — stop zat ! 

Fin. {loudly). I want Lady Hannah ! 

Raf. He’s gan crazy. Hilp me hould him. 

Count. Catch hold, zen. ( They seize him.) Come wiz us. 

Fin. Lave me go ! {Struggles ; throws Rafferty down c., and 
flings Count on top of him. The women scream. Finnigan 
places one foot on Count’s back, and stands with folded arms.) Me 
name is Larry Finnigan. I’m — ’ic — I’m chock full, an’ I kin prove 
it! 

QUICK CURTAIN. 


ACT III. 

Scene. — Same as Act //. 

{Enter Mrs. Finnigan and Lady Hannah, r. u. e.) 

Han. Now, my dear, you mustn’t take this so much to heart. 
All men have their little faults, you know. It’s only human nature. 
Mrs. F. Human nature? It was Rafferty’s whiskey. 

Han. {seated, r.). Well, never mind. 


finnigan’s fortune. 


31 


Mrs. F. But I do mind. ( Sits , l.) Think o’ the disgrace av 
it. It’ll get into the noospapers, an’ our social standin’ ’ll be 
ruined foriver. 

Han. Nonsense ! Do you suppose anybody believes the papers ? 

Mrs. F. Ye don’t mane to say the noospapers ever lie ! 

Han. They accuse each other of it. How is Mr. Finnigan this 
morning ? 

Mrs. F. He’s feelin’ very bad since his racket last night. He 
wanted — now, what do ye suppose he did want? 

Han. A doctor ? 

Mrs. F. No. 

Han. Some cracked ice? 

Mrs. F. No. 

Han. Brandy and soda ? 

Mrs. F. No. 

Han. What then? 

Mrs. F. He wanted me to turn the hose on him ! 

Han. Poor man ! 

Mrs. F. Don’t waste any sympathy on him. He’s been there 
before many a toime. But I can’t imagine, — ( goes up, looks off 
R.) here comes the monster now. I’ll not condesind to spake wid 
him. Come, Lady Hannah. What can the dear Count think o’ 
him? {Exit, d. f.) 

Han. And I wonder what he will think of the “dear Count” to- 
morrow. {Exit, D. F.) 

{Enter Finnigan, r. u. e., with large water-pitcher .) 

Fin. {comes slowly down c. ; pauses , then takes drink from 
pitcher ). I wonder why water always tastes so good the next 
marnin’? I kin aisily tell whin I’ve been drinkin’, for I’m always 
so dry afterwards. {Drinks.) I wonder what is become o’ the 
Count an’ Rafferty I dunno? The last thing I remimber I was 
walkin’ all over thim. Oh, dear ! (Sits.) Me head fales as big as 
a couple o’ barrels. (Drinks.) I’ll bet me wife had a fit last night, 
bekase I have a dim recollection av tryin’ to kiss Lady Hannah. 
It must a been awful. 

(Enter Rafferty, l. i e.) 

Raf. Good-marnin’, Larry. How air ye the day? 

Fin. I’m a total wreck. 

Raf. A wreck ? 

Fin. Yis, I am. I’m a blowed-up stameboat. I’m a railroad 
collision. I’m a busted balloon. Say, Rafferty. 

Raf. Yis? 

Fin. What kind o’ tarchlight whiskey was that, anyhow? 

Raf. That was the Jockey Club brand. 

Fin. Jockey Club ? I thought it was a base-ball club. Say, 
Rafferty. 


32 


finnigan’s fortune. 


Raf. Say it. 

F in. Are ye a friend o’ mine? 

Raf. I am that. 

Fin. Will ye do me a favor? 

Raf. Wid pleasure. 

Fin. Thin take a stick an’ hit me on the head. 

Raf. An’ what for should I ? 

Fin. To try an’ knock a little sinse into me. 

Raf. I give you a purty good crack wid me fist last night. 

Fin. I’m much obliged to ye, but it didn’t do any good. Ye 
should a hit me wid a can o’ dynamite. 

Raf. {rubs jaw). Faith, that wipe ye give me in the jaw was 
worser nor dynamite. 

Fin. I’m sorry that I hurted ye, Rafferty. 

{Enter Mrs. Finnigan, d f.) 

Mrs. F. But I’m not. Av he’d bruck yer neck, ’twould only 
sarved ye right — ye ould omadhaunl 

Fin. " What a swate-timpered lady! 

Mrs. F. You’re a purty pair! {Turns away.) 

Fin. Mrs. Finnigan! {To Rafferty.) Back me up nbw, 
Rafferty — back me up ! 

Raf. Divil a wance, will I? Sure, I backed ye up last night 
an’ got a busted jaw fer me pains. {Goes up.) Fight yer own 
battles, Larry. I’m goin’ home an’ git intil me uniform. {Exit, 
D. F.) 

Mrs. F. An’ stay thare, too. Don’t ye iver darken me doors 
agin. {Turns to Finnigan.) Well! Have ye anything to say av 
yerself ? 

Fin. Yis, I have. {Slaps table.) See here, Mrs. Finnigan. 
We may as well have an understands 1 P. D. Q., an’ right to the 
p’int. 

Mrs. F. Well, ye needn’t be swearin 1 . 

Fin. Hould yer tongue! I’m talkin’ now. {Drinks from 
pitcher.) Whin we lived down in our ould home I cud look any 
man in the face, an’ say, “ Me house is me own, an’ I kin do what 
I like in it.” I was happy an’ contented there, an’ you were a wife 
instead av a fashion plate. Luk at it now. What am I — nothin’. 
What are you — an ould scarecrow wid yer everlastin’ Aim-flum- 
mery an’ fiddle-de-dees ! 

Mrs. F. Mr. Finnigan, I’ll — 

Fin. Hould yer tongue ! Down there we had friends av our own 
class, an’ they were good friends, too. Up here among yer swells, 
what have we? Only a lot o’ blood-suckers who saftsoap around 
in order to get me money. Ye want to squeeze in among the Mc- 
Allister gang, an’ the noodle-headed dudes all laugh at ye. We’re 
outclassed, that’s what’s the matter. 

Mrs. F. I’m sure the Count de Marnay — 

Fin. The Count de nothin’. Do ye suppose that any real aris- 


FINN1GAN S FORTUNE. 


33 


tocrat would be hob-nobbin’ wid the likes av us? Not much, Mary 
Ann. These precious friends o’ yours are nothin’ but a pair o’ 
swindlers — mark me word fer that. 

Mrs. F. Larry, I’m ashamed o’ ye ! (Crosses.) 

Fin. I’m over seven. I guess l kin stand it. 

Mrs. F. Larry Finnigan ! (Crying.) 1 might a knowd how 
it would be. Ye’re bound to oppose me in ivery way. Ye’d like 
to see me back at the washtub agin, so ye would — me that was 
born to shine in society wid the best o’ thim. Ye’re a monster. 
Larry Finnigan, if iver lhare was wan in the wide world at all, so 
thare, now ! 

Fin. Are ye better after that ? ( Pause ; goes up r.) 

Mrs. F. Whare now are ye goin’? 

Fin. I’m goin’ to lie down for a bit, to see av I kin git me do- 
mestic economy in workin’ order. ( Exit , R. u. E.) 

Mrs. F. This comes of marryin’ an ould brick mason. A lady 
like me what’s born to live in high society ought to marry wan o’ 
the Four Hundred first aft'. Larry’s got money, but it does no good. 
Av I’d only remained single, I might a been a rich widdy wan o’ 
these days. An’ thin I cud bought me a husband wid a title. 
(Clasps hands and raises eyes.) To think av it! I might have 
married a duke, an’ then I’d been a dukess. 

(Enter Katy, d. f.) 

Katy. Good-morning. 

Mrs. F. Ah, Katy darlin’, is that you ? 

Katy. Why, what’s the matter? 

Mrs. F. It’s worryin’ I am, down to me skin an’ bones, Katy. 
We've got a fine house here, an’ a pew in church, an’ a coachman 
an’ footman, an’ a box at the opery wid a low neck an’ long-tailed 
dress. An’ I come in late, an’ I talk an’ laugh an’ disgust people 
just like the other swells do. 

Katy. Well? 

Mrs. F. Well. An’ I wear a big hat at the theatre so that 
thim behind can’t see anything, an’ I come in after the show begins, 
an’ I begin to git ready to go before it’s over, an’ I’m as no : sy as 
any av ’em. An’ I’ve got sarvints an’ diamonds, an’ lamin’ to 
spake Frinch an’ Italian an’ waltzin’ an’ the pianny, an’ what’s the 
good av it all wid a husband who knocks the whole thing in the 
head ? 

Katy. Does he, indeed? 

Mrs. F. Does he, indade? Indade he does. He wants pie for 
breakfast an’ he ates it wid a knife which is what no aristocratical 
person would think o’ doin’? 

Katy. But then his heart is all right. 

Mrs. F. I suppose so. I niver heard av its bein’ wrong. 

Katy. I mean he has a good, kind heart. 

Mrs. F. That’s true. Lnrry niver was no hog. 

Katy. And he’s not happy here. 


34 


finnigan’s fortune 


Mrs. F. No more am I. 

Katy ( surprised ). What? 

Mus. F. It’s a fact, Katy, though I wouldn’t have Larry know 
it for the world. Me ould friends from down beyant in the Alley 
won’t come to see me, bekase I’m too stylish. An’ the big bugs 
from Murray Hill won’t call bekase I ain’t stylish enough. No — 
that isn’t it ayther. It’s bekase they know me husband was a 
workingman, while their money wus made by their grandfathers. 

Katy. Never mind what they think. 

Mrs. F. I don’t ; only it makes me mad to see the airs they put 
on. Now, if Larry had been his own grandson, we’d a been all 
right. 

( Enter Patrick, d. f.) 

Pat. Say, is the governor about ? 

Mrs. F. Yis — he’s about used up. What is it, Patsy? 

Pat. A horribly bad pun I should call it. (At D. F.) Come in. 

(Enter Jake, d. f.) 

Jake (looks about). Shiminy! vat style! How you vas, eh? 

Mrs. F. I’m awfully glad to see ye. But av ye’ve come for a 
scrap wid Mr. Finnigan, Pm afraid ye’ll be disappointed. 

Jake. No, I don’t guess I vants some more scraps mit him. I 
vos coom to told him someding right avay off quick. 

Mrs. F. I’ll go tell him. 

Jake. Himmel ! How vos you know ? 

Mrs. F. Know what? 

Jake. Vat I vos goin’ to told him. 

Mrs. F. I don’t. I’m only goin’ to tell him that ye’ve got some- 
thing to tell him yersilf. 

Jake. Nix. You vos got me all mix oop. Luff me see him. 

Mrs. F. All right. (Goes r.) Come wid me. 

Jake. Yaw. Say, Katy — dot feller vosn’t so mooch uf a dude 
now, eh? 

Katy. Oh, no. Pie’s got all over that. 

Jake. Dot’s goot. It’s like der measles. Ven a feller gits ofer 
it he nefer has it some more. All right. (To Mrs. Finnigan.) 
I vos coomin’. (Follows her off R. u. E.) 

Pat. (down c). Moses! If our governors conclude to make 
up, I’ll believe the milli-what’s-his-name has come. 

Katy. It must be something very important to bring papa up 
here. 

Pat. Yas. Maybe he’s going to run for Alderman, or open 
another saloon. 

Katy. Well, I’m sure you needn’t make fun of my father. 

Pat. (aside) . Now, I’ve — I’ve made her mad. 

Katy. Run for Alderman, indeed! You must have a high 
opinion of him ! 

Pat. I thought it was an honor to be an Alderman. 


finnigan’s fortune. 


35 


Katy. Here in New York? And be sent to Sing Sing? 

Pat. What for? 

Katy. Hear that! And you born and brought up here ! Why, 
for being a boodler, of course. Do you know what that is ? 

Pat. Yas. A boodler is a — a fellow who boodles. ( Looks 
towards d. 'f.) Here comes a couple now. Let’s vanish. ( They 
exit , L. i e.) 

( Enter Count and Lady Hannah, d. f.) 

Count. Nobody here? Good. 

Han. Then you presented the check? 

Count.' Surely. 

Han. And got the money ? 

Count. Surely. 

Han. Anybody see you? 

Count. No. Stop — I remember me; an ole Dutchman he 
stand by me, but paff ! He see nossing. 

Han. Don’t be too sure of that. Give me the money. 

Count. Eh ? 

Han. Give me the money, I tell you. 

Count. I see no reason for zat. 

Han. Are you so blind? (Patrick appears d. f.) Supposing 
inquiries are made? If the money is found on you — 

Count. Ma foi! It make of ze trouble. Here, take ze money. 
( Gives package of bills. ) Zen, soon as safe, away ve go for Paris. 

Han. Hush! {They go down l.) 

(Enter Fixnigan and Jake, r. u. e., a7id Patrick, d. f.) 

Fin. There they are ! 

Jake. Yaw — dot’s him. 

Fin. Now, are ye dead sure that ye are dead right about it ? 

Jake. I say I see him, and dot’s enough. 

Fin. I’m much obliged to ye, Jake. (They shake hands.) An’ 
this inds all enmity betwane us. 

Jake. Dot’s all right. Now go for him. 

Fin. I will. ( Comes c.) Look here, Mr. Count. 

Count. Sare ? 

Fin. I have a few words to spake wid ye, an’ p’r’aps the woman 
better go. 

Count (loftily). Sare! Vot you mean? 

Fin. I mane I’m beginnin’ to lose me timper ; an’ whin I lose 
me timper, I git mad. Madam, will ye lave the room ? 

Han. Certainly. (Starts towards d. f., where Patrick is 
standing.) 

Pat. (raises hand). Excuse me. You can’t leave just yet. 

Han. Sir! 

• Pat. It’s all right, dad. Go ahead. 

Count. Oui. Vot have he got to say? • 


36 


FINNIGAN S FORTUNE. 


Fin. Just this, ye dom thafe Rapidly') : hand me over the money 
ye stole out o’ the bank, over me name, or I'll take ye by the nape 
o’ the neck and knock yer rascally brains out agin the wall ! 

Count. Who say I stole ze money ? 

Jake. I tink dot feller was me. 

Count. Zen you be ze liar. 

Jake. So? ( Pulls up sleeves.') Luff me got at him ! 

Fin. {restrains Jake) . Aisy, Jake, aisy. Let the ould mon do 
the sluggin’. {To Count.) Now, come, down wid it. 

Count. I have no money, you ole fool ! 

Fin. What ! I’ll break yer back ! 

Pat. Hold on, dad. He tells the truth for once. Now, Lady 
Hannah. {Holds out hand . ) 

Han. What do you mean, sir ? 

Pat. {quietly'). The money, if you please. 

Han. You insult me. 

Pat. Impossible. There’s an officer outside. Shall I call 
him in? 

Han. No. {Throws bills on floor.) Take your dirty money! 
{Exit, D. F.) 

Fin. So that's what’s the matter wid Hannah ! {Picks up 
money. }A.YJE.and Patrick^ up c. Finnigan’s back is towards 
the COUNT.) I wonder is it all here? {Examines fiacketl) 

Count {aside, savagely). Sacrb / But I will hive my revenge! 
{Draws dagger, and rushes at Finnigan; Patrick has turned 
q'uickly, rushes forward , meets the Count, and knocks him down as 
he was about to stab Finnigan. Memo: rehearse thoroughly for 
positions.) 

Fin. {to Patrick). An’ didye do that? 

Pat. (l.). Yas. 

Fin. Now, I call -that mane. Ye gave me no chance to slug 
’im. {Tenderly.) Bless yer brave heart, me b’y. Ye saved yer 
ould daddy’s life. Go buy a bushel o’ neckties, an’ all the pants 
ye want. (Count slowly rises.) 

{Enter Rafferty, d. f., in unifoj'm.) 

Fin. Hello, Rafferty, ye’re just in time. Take this thing out 
an’ jug it. Ah! {To Count.) Av I had anything in me hand 
but me fist, I’d break yer back. Freeze to him, Rafferty. 

Raf. That I will. I was after him anyhow, for he’s the crook- 
edest crook from Crooktown. His wife’s already arrested. 

All. His wife ? 

Raf. Lady Hannah Lovejoy. She’s a great deal worser nor 
him. 

Count. You hold ze trump cards now, but I get even yet. 

Raf. Ah, hould yer whist ! {Exit with Count, d. f.) 

Jake (r.). Dot vos a close shave. 

Fin. {picks up dagger). I guess yer right, Jake. Anyhow, I 
wouldn’t want to be shaved wid thot. 


finnigan’s fortune. 


37 


(EnteP Mrs. Finnigan «/^Katy, d. f.) 

Mrs. F. O Larry! wliat has happened? 

Fin. Several things. Your high-toned friends happened to be 
a couple o’ sharpers, while you an’ I happen to be a couple o’ fools. 
Mrs. F. Larry! 

Fin. It’s so. I’ll leave it to our friends. (Looks to audience .) 
But I’m goin’ to turn over a new leaf. To-morrow I vow I’ll rent, 
sell, or give away this house, an’ we’ll go back where we belong — 
back where we’ll be happy — back among our ould, true friends in 
Finnigan’s Alley. 

CURTAIN. 

l. Patrick. Katy. Finnigan. Mrs. Finnigan. Jake. r. 


38 


finnigan’s fortune. 


REMARKS ON THE PLAY. 

Here is a novelty. 

An American Irish play! No '‘red-coats,” no “evictions,” no “landlords.” There 
are no “ uprisings,” “ dungeon cells,” nor “ persecuted maidens.” In writing this bieezy 
play Townsend has left the beaten track, and we gladly follow him into a new and de- 
lightful region. 

Finnigan’s Fortune is a play of to-day. It is up to the times. Instead of wildly 
impossible characters we meet real fiesh-and-blood people, who do things exactly as all 
the audience believe they would do under similar circumstances. Therefore every scene 
in the play appears so natural and lifelike that, in the illusion of reality, one forgets it is 
all acting. The role of Finnigan is a favorite one with the author, who appears at his 
best in character parts. The supporting characters are excellent, giving opportunities 
for strong individual work. 

Finnigan is a man of fifty. He is red faced, slightly gray, and is made up stout with 
short throat-whiskers. He speaks with a “burr” — clipping the consonants and soften- 
ing the vowels. He speaks rapidly when excited, and at such times his “brogue” is 
very much in evidence. The part should be played quietly, the voice seldom raising 
even in the stormiest scenes. 

Patrick is a pale, beardless young man of twenty-one. Bear in mind that, despite 
his father’s assertion, he is not a “dude.” He is diffident in manner and hesitating in 
speech. At the same time he is plucky enough in an emergency, as his conduct in the 
last act indicates. 

Jake is a typical stage “Dutchman,” — middle aged, stout, and florid. His noisy, 
explosive manner is an excellent foil to Finnigan’s more, quiet bearing; therefore, the 
character should be portrayed on the lines of broad comedy. 

Rafferty is a man of forty. His make-up is dark, he wears a mustache, and speaks 
with a decided brogue. His speech is quicker and more decided than Finnigan’s. 

De Morney is a Frenchman of about thirty-five. He has the traditional make-up, — 
dark, with moustache and goatee. He is quick and nervous in movement, gesticulates 
freely, and generally is overbearing in manner. Be careful to avoid overdoing this role , 
especially in the dialect. 

Mrs. Finnigan is a pompous, self-assertive woman, about forty years of age. Her 
ignorance, coupled with an imaginary refinement, makes this a deliciously comical part, 
of which she is wholly unconscious. She has a touch of pathos now and then, which, to 
be effective, must be entirely unstudied. The character admits of much eccentricity in 
manner and in dress; hence there is little danger of over-doing it. Her “French” 
must be invariably mispronounced. 

Katy is a girl of eighteen. This is an ingenue role , and should be played throughout 
with an air of artless innocence — which will be highly effective if at all well done. 

Lady Hannah is a handsome, dashing woman of about thirty. She dresses in good 
taste, and is thoroughly refined in manner, except during her private scenes with 
De Morney, in which she throws off the mask. s 


A NEW SHAKESPERIAN TRAVESTY 


The Shakespeare Wooing 

A Play of Shreds and Patches taken from the Works of 

William Shakespeare. 


By M. M. TAYLOR, 

Part Author of “The Chronothanatoletron.” 


Two male, five female characters. Scenery, unimportant ; costumes, Shake* 
sperian. Plays about forty minutes. 

Price .... 15 cents. 

This most amusing entertainment treats certain well-known Sliakesperian 
characters in a similarly whimsical way to that employed in “The Shakespeare 
Water-Cure” and “Place aux Dames.” Its argument is, briefly, as folkovs : 
Lady Macbeth, being left a widow by the sudden and lamentable demise of 
her husband, falls in love with Romeo, and, taking advantage of Leap Year, 
woos him with gentle firmness. He refuses her, assuring her that he loves 
Ophelia. Lady Macbeth, mad with jealousy, procures an epitome of mod- 
ern literature from the three witches, former friends of her husband, and, giving 
it to Ophelia, causes her “reason’s overthrow.” Ophelia, having lost her 
reason, falls in love Avitli Launcelot Gobbo. The play is ended by the remorse 
of Lady Macbeth, avIio restores Ophelia to her senses and to' her lover, at 
the same time bestoAving her own hand upon Launcelot. 

It is heartily to be recommended for its cleverness, its refinement, its taste 
and its wit, as Avell as for its dramatic quality. 


■ 

% 

A NEW ENTERTAINMENT FOR GIRLS. 


The Soap-Bubble Drill 


By MARGARET FEZANDIE. 

Author of “The Tennis Drill.” 


Price *15 cents. 

Tbis novel and picturesque drill will at once recommend itself to all lovers 
of this style of entertainments Sixteen little girls take part, or. if preferred, 
eight boys and eight girls can be used instead. The drill is equally adapted for 
the lawn, in summer, or the stage or draAving-rooni in Avinter, and not only 
attractively utilizes childish grace and beauty in its evolutions, but originally 
presents an attractive effect of color combinations in its costuming It might 
be called, if desired, the “Rainbow Drill.” 


Something New, Funny and Refined 


Prof. BAXTER’S GREAT INVENTION, 

Or, OLD MAIDS MADE NEW. 

<A. FARCE-COMEDY I AT OUE ACT. 

By MARY B. HORNE, 

Author of “The Peak Sisters,” “The Carnival of Days,” “The Book 
of Drills, Parts I and II,” Etc. 


For three male and three female characters. Modern every-day costumes. 
Scenery of the very simplest character. Plays about an hour, or longer, 
according to specialties, songs, etc., introduced. This entertainment is a decided 
novelty, and is excruciatingly funny. First-rate Irish soubrette part, and capital 
comic old man. Prof. Baxter’s patent process for making old people young 
again suits everybody, both on the stage and off. 

Price, - - - - 15 cents. 

SYUOPSIS. 

SCENE. — Dr. Baxter’s Office. Mary Ann and the Professor. A scientific break- 
fast. Patieuts. A sweet young thing of fifty. Mary Ann romances. The 
old dude. More patients. A back number. Getting ready for the operation, 
lioxanna and the Doctor. Greek meets Greek. Electro-motive force, vs. a 
female tongue. The “gossimeres.” The current begins to work. Woolley 
has a very strange feeling. Charged with electricity. “I never charge, but 
take cash down.” Filling the cabinets. A little backward in coming forward. 
Dorothy’s shyness. “What, get in there Avitli two men!” Mary Ann sacri- 
ficed to propriety. Itoxanna and the Doctor again. Getting the mitten. 
“ You press the button, and I’ll do the rest.” The current full on. Groans 
of the wounded. After the battle. Old maids and old dudes made new. 
Roxanna’s work undone. “It’s a deep laid plot!” Celebrating the event. 
“The dude who couldn’t dance.” Mary Ann and “The Irish Jubilee.” It is 
in the air and Roxanna catches it. A terrible catastrophe. The deaf old 
gentleman gets overdone. The Professor adopts the old infant. Marrying 
and giving in marriage. The “invention” pronounced a grand success. 


JOINING the TINPANITES. 

(SECOND DEGREE.) 

PART II OF THIS POPULAR MOCK INITIATION, 

FOR THE AMUSEMENT AND INSTRUCTION OF SECRET SOCIETIES. ADAPTED TO ALL 
ORDERS, AND CONTAINING NOTHING TO OFFEND ANY 
SECRET ORGANIZATIONS. 

Price, - - - - 15 cents. 

For thirteen male characters and supers. Scenery unimportant, the stage 
representing the interior of a lodge-room. Costumes, burlesque regalia. Plays 
forty minutes. Can be played independently, or in connection with Part T. 
Any number of men can assist as members, etc. 


plays for /Amateur theatricals. 

by GEORGE BHKER, 

Author of “Amateur Dramas ?' “The Mimic Stager “ The Social Stage?' “The Drawing* 
Room Stage?’ “Handy Dramas ?’ “The Exhibition Dramas?’ “A Baker s Dozen, etc . 

Titles in this Type are New Plays. 

Titles in this Type are Temperance Plays. 


DRAMAS. 

In Four A cis. 

Better than Gold. 7 male, 4 female 
char 

In Three Acts. 

Onr Folks. 6 male, 5 female char. . 15 
The Flower of the Family. 5 

male, 3 female char • 15 

Enlisted for the War. 7 male, 3 fe- 
male char. *5 

My Brother’s Keeper. 5 male, 3 fe- 
male char • >5 

The TAttle Brown Jug. 5 male, 3 
female char 


In Two A cis. 


Above the Clouds. 7 male, 3 female 

char 

One Hundred Years Ago. 7 male, 

4 female char • • 

Among the Breakers. 6 male, 4 female 

Bread on the Waters. 5 male, 3 female 

char 

Down by the Sea. 6 male, 3 female 
char. • 

Once on a Time. 4 male, 2 female char. 
I The Bast JLoaf. 5 male, 3 female char. 

I In One A ct. 

Stand by the Flag. 5 male char. . . 
The Tempter. 3 male, 1 female char. 


COMEDIES AND FARCES. 


A Mysterious Disappearance. 4 

male, 3 female char 

Taddle Your Own Canoe. 7 male 
3 female char. .,.«••••• 
A Drop too Much. 4 male, 2 female 

char • • * • * *, r 

A Little More Cider. 5 male, 3 fe- 
male char * * 

A Thorn Among the Roses. 2 male, 0 

female char • • • * 

Never Say Die. 3 male, 3 fema.e char. 
Seeing the Elephant. 6 male, 3 female 


char. . . . 

The Boston Dip. 

The Duchess of 
male char. • . • 

Thirty Minutes for 
4 male, 3 female char. 
We’re all Teetotalers. 
male char. ...» 


4 male, 3 female char. 
Dublin. 6 male, 4 fe- 

« • • • 

Refreshments. 


4 male, 2 fe- 


15 

15 

*5 

IS 

15 

15 

IS 

15 

15 


15 

15 

IS 

15 

15 

15 

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15 

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Male Characters Only. 

A Close Shave, ft char. •••••• 

A Public Benefactor. 6 char. » • • 
A Sea of Trouble-s. 8 char 


i 5 

15 

15 


COMEDIES, etc., continued. 

Male Characters Only. 

A Tender Attachment. 7 char. . . 

Coals of Fire. 6 char 

Freedom of the Press. 8 char. . . • 
Shall Our Mothers Vote? 1 1 char. 
Gentlemen of the Jury. 12 char. . • 

Humors of the Strike. 8 char. ... 
My Uncle the Captain. 6 char. . . * 

New Brooms Sweep Clean. 6 char. 

The Great Elixir. 9 char 

The Hypochondriac. 3 char 

The Man with the Demijohn. 4 

char "... 

The Runaways. 4 char 

The Thief of Time. 6 char. . . . .. 

Wanted, a Male Cook. 4 char. * • • 

Female Characters Only. 

A Love of a Bonnet. 5 char. • . • • 

A Precious Pickle. 6 char 

No Cure No Pay. 7 char 

The Champion of Her Sex. 8 char. . 
The Greatest Plague in Life. 8 char. 

The Grecian Bend. 7 char 

The Red Chignon. 6 char 

Using the Weed. 7 char 

ALLEGORIES. 

Arranged for Music and Tableaux. 

Lighthart’s Pilgrimage. 8 female 

char • * 

The Revolt of the Bees. 9 female 

char 

The Sculptor’s Triumph, i male. 4 fe- 
male char 

The Tournament of Idylcourt. 10 fe- 
male char 

The War of the Roses. 8 female char. 
The Voyage of Life. 8 female char. . 

MUSICAL AND DRAMATIC. 

An Original Idea, i male, 1 female 
Bonbons; or, the Paint King. 6 male, 

1 female char 

Capuletta; or, Romeo and Juliet 
Restored. 3 male, 1 female char. 
Santa Claus’ Frolics. ...... 

Snow-bound; or, Alonzo the Brave, 
and the Fair Imogene. 3 male, 1 

female char • * 

The Merry Christmas of the Old 
Woman who Lived i-n a Shoe. . . * 
The P.edler of Very Nice. 7 male 

char 

The Seven Ages. A Tableau Entertain- 
ment. Numerous male and female char. 
Too Late for the Train. 2 male char. 
The Visions of Freedom, ii female 
char. 


WALTER H. BAKER & CO., 23 Winter St„ Bor* 


*5 

>5 

15 

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15 

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i 5 

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»5 

IS 

15 

15 

‘5 

15 

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15 

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15 

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-5 

25 

15 

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>5 


25 

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15 

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15 


library of congress 



OPERETTAS FOR CHILDREN. 


0 012 227 661 
\JUiJ \J 


riM3 for Eventide. 


A Collection of Short and Simple Musical Entertainments for Children. 


By Mrs. C. N. BORDMAN, 


Author of “The Kingdom of Mother Goose,” “Motion Songs for the School- 
Room,” “ The Temperance Clarion,” etc. 




Complete with all the music and full instructions for performance. This collection is 
strongly recommended for its simplicity, originality of idea, tunefulness and perfect prac- 
ticability. 

Price ..... 50 cents. 


COnSTTZEUsTTS. 

A GLIMPSE OF THE BROWNIES. A Musical Sketch for Chil- j 

dren. For any number of boys. 

JIMMY CROW. A Recitation for a Little Girl. 


MARKET DAY. An Operetta for Young People. Seven speaking parts 
and chorus. 


QUEEN FLORA’S DAY DREAM. An Operetta for Children. Six 

speaking parts and chorus. « 


THE BOATING PARTY. A Musical Sketch for Little Children. Thirty 

boys and girls. 


SIX LITTLE GRANDMAS. A Musical Pantomime for very Little 

Children. ' Six very little girls. 

A HOUSE IN THE MOON. A Recitation for a Little Girl. 




ROBIN’S SPECIFIC; 

OR, THE CHANGES OF A NIGHT. 


A Christmas Operetta in One Act. 


Words by 

AMELIA SANFORD. 


Music by 

ADAM CIEBEL. 


For one adult and nine children from eight to sixteen years old, with eight very little boys 
and twelve little girls for Chorus. Three changes of scene, very easily arranged, costumes 
varied but simple and readily procured. Very effective and easily gotten up. 


Price 


£5 cents. 


Catalogues describing the above and other popular entertainments sent free on application to 




WALTER H. BAKER & CO., 

THEATRICAL PUBLISHERS, 

BOSTON, MASS. 


^ Winter Street, 


